


A Field of Lilies and Baby's Breath

by eternalsession



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: CyrilDay2019, F/M, Fluff, Golden Deer spoilers, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CYRIL!!!!!!!, the special boy's birthday!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsession/pseuds/eternalsession
Summary: A three part work about the progression of Cyril and Lysithea's relationship.





	1. Butterflies

Cyril was out in one of the back fields, a common training ground. He was gathering firewood, and had made sure to follow a rotation, so he wouldn’t take more from the earth than necessary, and so everywhere would still be pretty. He made a habit of planting another seed wherever he chopped down a tree, as well. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Before he could finish his task, he was caught by the rain. That put an immediate end to his plans, pretty much parking him where he was, at least until it subsided. Even after it subsided, it would be humid, which would make him all sticky. _What a mess_, he thought. _Nothing for it but to wait it out, I guess_.

He made for the gazebo he installed (built for this specific reason, actually). He’d been caught by the rain and had to run back to the monastery before, and unfortunately caught a cold in the process. It was about a ten-minute jog, so it didn’t surprise him. Getting sick is far from ideal, though, so he took the time to build it. 

He retired into the gazebo, only to find that another person had already been sitting inside. What awaited him was a pleasant surprise, though.

“Hey Lysithea. What brings you here?” He said, poking his head into the structure.

“Nothing in particular,” she lied. She’d tailed Cyril going toward that way, wanting to spend more time with him. That was embarrassing to admit though, even if she did have all of Claude’s confidence (which she certainly did _not_). “A change of pace, I suppose. I wanted to get some fresh air.” That was kind of true.

“Oh, I get ya. I know I’d hate to be cooped up between my room and the library all the time, even if it were most efficient to get all my work done there. Sometimes ya just gotta feel the breeze on your skin.” He smiled, lighting up her tiny, tiny heart. She didn’t need the breeze; just that.

After setting aside the small talk, she opened her tome again and began reading. They sat in silence for a while, Cyril content with just sitting there listening to the rain, Lysithea concentrated on her reading. Cyril could not count the time, but, after a while she huffed and shut her book closed.

“Lysithea? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing much. Nothing to concern yourself over, at least.”

His expression twisted into a frown. “That’s no good. If ya wanna talk about it, no need to hold back.”

She sighed. “It’s just—my whole life I’ve been treated as if I have some kind of innate ability to perform better than others, when that isn’t the case at all. I put in a lot of effort to get as far as I am, and I still admit I have a lot to go. They just love to tell me I’m ‘talented’ because it makes them feel less awful about themselves for being outperformed by someone younger than them!”

“I know what ya mean,” he replied, nodding. “I hate it when people call me talented too. I’ve been doing this for years now, so bein’ talked down to really grinds my gears. That’s why I started hangin’ around Shamir. She never told me I was talented.”

The words lingered on his lips—he couldn’t admit right now that that was one of the reasons he hung out with her as often as he did. She nodded at him, indicating she was still listening.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to jump in while you were ventin’ or anything, I just wanted to let you know I totally get how ya feel.” He tried waving around his hands, as if it would clear the metaphorical air.

“Don’t worry about it. This happens to me all the time, and I really don’t want to talk about it much more. Even if I do complain about it to you, these feelings won’t disappear from that alone. I’m more interested in what you were going to say earlier. I rarely get to hear about your past, Cyril. What were you saying about Shamir?”

To further illustrate her sincerity, he set her book aside entirely, then moved across the gazebo to sit opposite to him. They were sitting about a foot across from each other—close enough for her to reach out and grab his hand. Not that… she would have a need for that. Cyril paused for a moment, but seeing her move across the gazebo to look him in the eye, allowing himself to be vulnerable, at least for a little bit.

“…Well,” he sighed. “If you insist. I think… when I started trainin’ under her was the first time I ever felt like a person, if ya get me. It felt like I was bein’ seen for who I was, rather than where I was from, what I was doin’, what I stood for. Felt like some gears were finally turnin’ in my head or something, ya know?”

“That’s surprising. I would have figured you’d pay more homage to Lady Rhea. Have you changed your tune?”

“That’s not really… it’s hard to explain. Promise ya won’t tell anyone or laugh at what I’m about to say?” he murmured.

Her heart skipped a beat. When her normal tempo returned, she nodded once.

“I think of Lady Rhea like my mom. I know Uncle Se- er, Seteth would be upset if I referred to them all so informally, at least in public, so I do my best to refer to them normally.”

She tried to stifle a laugh but failed, resulting in snickers that exploded into laughter. He covered his face with his hand, yelling at her about laughing despite promising not to. He was so embarrassed his face actually turned a noticeable shade of red. After wiping the tears out of her eyes, she finally managed to speak.

“I see how that would be difficult to explain. So your obsession with Lady Rhea isn’t something unnatural at all. It’s just the same as me or Lorenz.”

He nodded. “I just wanna look out for my folks like you do. Gotta say, it feels nice to finally open up to someone about this kinda thing.”

“What about your parents back in Almyra though? Surely you have a connection, no matter how shallow, to them, right? I can’t imagine they’d have a positive reaction to seeing you refer to a woman of Fodlan as your mother…”

He frowned and shook his head.

“See, for better or worse, I don’t have any memories of Almyra. Not a bit. Furthest I remember back is when she looked at me, layin’ in the dirt, with this look on her face like ‘Don’t worry child, everything will be alright now.’ I guess that’s what’s always drawn me to her. I do think about paying back my debt to her all the time, but for me, it’s enough to just have a place somewhere. Where I belong.” 

“Wait,” she started, eyes widening. “So you don’t have any memories of Almyra at all? You don’t even remember your parents?”

“Nope. Not sure if I even have any. It would be pretty funny if I turned out to be some kind of heir to the throne, though. What a sick twist that would be,” he uttered, smiling wryly. Before she could even react to that, he continued. “Well, I like it here at least. I get to talk to mom, you, and Shamir whenever I want to. That’s a bonus.”

He only realized what he said after he saw her blushing. He tried to elaborate what he meant, but all that came out was useless sputtering.

She didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, she was laughing. While it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant feeling in the world to be laughed _at, _he did like that he made her laugh. He liked the little hiccup she made when she laughed for too long. The way her laughter bounced off of the walls of the gazebo just made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. He didn’t even notice that he was laughing with her.

It was totally unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“I like talking to you, too, Cyril.”

He was sure what she said was no louder than a whisper. Something that quiet would be drowned out by the rain; by no means should he have been able to hear it—and yet. He wasn’t the type to get flustered, especially not by something as vague as that. Manuela had told him before that he was a great “talker” (whatever a “talker” was) and he was her rock or something, but that never got to him.

So why was his heart beating out of his chest now? Why did he hear the pounding of his heart in his ears? Why could he taste it in his throat? What was so different? Time stretched like a rubber band, bolted in place, yet at once still marching forward. He was finally snapped back to real time by the sound of her voice.

“Looks like the rain’s finally let up.”

“Hm? Ah, you’re right. That means it’s time to get back to work.” _To keep my mind occupied. _

A hand tugged on his shirt. He turned his head slightly but realized he couldn’t meet her eyes. He managed a decent façade, though (he thought).

“If…” she started but couldn’t seem to manage the courage to keep going. He breathed a small sigh and turned around to face her. He wasn’t ready for this. He was way too flustered.

“What’s up, Lysithea?”

She exhaled a shallow breath, then met his eyes. He didn’t notice how his ears perked up when their eyes locked, nor did he notice how she took his hand in hers to deliver her proposition.

“If you ever need any help, you can rely on me, alright Cyril? We’ve gotta stick together, y’know?”

He didn’t notice the wide, toothy grin that was so uncharacteristic of him spreading across his face, nor did he notice the heat spreading across his cheeks. He didn’t even know what he said to her, other than it being a response obviously in agreement. The two shining globes in front of him twinkled and glistened, commanding nothing less than his undivided attention.

He didn’t notice anything else because his world was already right before his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cyril deserves a good mother figure. this hc is a little out there, but i like it. i want him to be happy.


	2. Lily

Their special spot was the balcony of the third floor. When making renovations to the monastery after years of disrepair, this was actually the spot Cyril cleaned first. He justified it by saying Rhea wouldn’t want for it to come back to something like this, but the reason he didn’t realize was that he… missed spending time with Lysithea. It took him a while to figure that out, actually. She just… made him happy.

It was as simple as that.

He thought of Rhea as a mother, so of course he wanted to retrieve her as soon as possible. He always knew he came off as strange to others; he heard some monastery staff bad mouthing him about his “obsession” with Lady Rhea on many an occasion. He never said anything to refute them, though, because they were right, to an extent, with the information that they had. If they didn’t know him, they wouldn’t understand his relationship with her. Not that keeping it private did any good for him in that department either.

Seteth was right, though, he thought. He was purposely avoiding his eyes from his own potential, because he felt content as he was. Thinking about the future would be the same as admitting that what he had was going to eventually come to an end. He didn’t even consider himself to have a future outside of Rhea, so trying to think about something like that now was a little hard. The only thing he really knew for sure was that he was happy as he was.

He was getting distracted, thinking about all this stuff. She’d be here soon, and here he was, still sweeping some leaves around. He breathed a heavy sigh, leaning on his broom.

“That’s unlike you, Cyr. What’s got you so melancholy?”

“Thinkin’ about the future is hard, y’know? Uncle Seteth told me that mom wouldn’t mind if I had to leave the nest, so to speak, but I never really had any dreams of my own. Hard to think up one now.”

His brain took a moment to process, but… ding! Realization. He turned on the ball of his foot to face her, face heating up.

“Wait, Lys!? What are you doing here so early?”

“What are you talking about? This is when we’re supposed to meet up. We agreed upon this specific time years ago. Don’t tell me you’ve even let time slip away from you in your musing. This really is unlike you.” Her chiding hurt, but she was right. “More importantly, what were you talking about?”

“Oh, nothin’. Just Seteth tellin’ me that I don’t have to stay confined to the monastery. Think he also implied that he’d leave the monastery if his goals didn’t align with mo- I mean, Rhe- er, _Lady_ Rhea’s. Oh, but, don’t go tellin’ nobody I told you this stuff, alright? I don’t want Seteth to get mad at me.”

She giggled at his stuttering over Rhea’s name. She knew about his relationship with her, of course, so she didn’t get why he was correcting himself now.

“Come on, Cyr, relax. No need to hold back when it’s just us. Besides, I already promised not to tell anyone five years ago.” Her smile healed him.

“You’re right, sorry. Habit. Then again, guess it wouldn’t do much good, with how much I tripped up there, huh?” a small chuckle accompanied his statement.

“I get wanting to stay here with Lady Rhea. In fact, more or less, our goals are basically the same. We just want to be there for our parents to put them at ease, right? But have you ever thought about what your parents might want for you?”

Cyril didn’t have anything to say for that, though he did lock eyes with her. It was clear he was thinking about what she said, so she left it at that for a while. She took a seat on a bench he installed (funny how he kept building things for them to sit on, she thought), inviting him wordlessly to sit next to her. He obliged. For a while, they sat in silence. She was content giving him his time to think and was glad for merely his company. She opened the book she had been carrying with her, taking this time to study.

“I never thought about it like that,” he said, breaking their long silence. “Does that mean you’ve thought about what your folks might want for you too?”

“Of course.” She closed her tome. It was important to her that he knew she was paying attention. “Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t want their daughter to be stressing and worrying over whether or not she can provide for them, but I choose to do that despite their wishes. I am not, however, going to stay with them for my whole life. I am merely going to care for them in their old age. That is the responsibility of all children, no?”

He laughed. “In that case I really can’t leave, can I? Maybe I should be calling her gramma instead?”

That laugh warmed her heart. Every time. “Conversely, it means that you could never hope to care for her in her old age, as she will vastly outlive you. You’re free to simply leave the nest, only to return on whims.”

He turned his gaze away from her—which was how she knew he was going to say something that embarrassed him. When they were together like this, he always held eye contact with her. No, it seemed more like he was always _looking _at her.

“W-well, what d’ya wanna do after ya look out for your folks?”

“Cyr… you know I don’t expect to make it past 25. I don’t have any plans for after that.”

He grinned, as if he expected her to say that. “Then we’re in the same boat!”

“You don’t expect to make it past 25?” She tilted her head in faux confusion.

“Er- no, not… you knew what I meant!”

She giggled, though she was not as confident as her tone might have led him to believe. “Is there nothing you wish to do? You’re content sweeping the floors at Garreg Mach for the rest of your days?”

“Hey, don’t talk down on janitors,” he said, huffing and crossing his arms. “Ya can’t expect these noble types to clean up after themselves. Even if they did, there’s a lot of dirt and grime that builds up over time just from naturally doin’ stuff. Plus this whole place is outside, which means anima-“

“Okay, alright, I get it! Just shut up about your cleaning route already!” she said, covering her ears. Her wide smile betrayed her tone though, inciting a laugh from the both of them.

“Well, if I had any other plans, Claude once asked me if I ever felt like travellin’. Didn’t give it much thought at the time, but that’s on the table I guess.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! All you’ve ever known is Garreg Mach, right? You’ll see how vast the world is, see all kinds of new places, maybe even fall in love!”

“Huh? I’ve already fallen in love, though.”

She punched his stomach a few times to get the embarrassment out of her system [0x2].

“I mean for when I’m gone, Cyr. You know I won’t be here forever.”

“Then we’ll just have to solve that problem first, then travel. Really, it’s all so simple. ‘Sides, ain’t none of us gone be here forever.”

“’It’s all so simple’? Is that a joke? You think I haven’t already tried all I can?”

“They say two heads are better’n one. And four heads are definitely better’n two. We ain’t alone, Lys.”

She wanted to protest more, but she simply couldn’t find it in her to muster any anger. The serenity on his smile, the look in his eyes that made her believe that everything would work out.

She rested her head on his chest, curling her arms around him. “You all… you’re are the same, you know that? Thinking that even a girl like me can still be…” she said, though her voice was muffled… and a little—

He stroked her hair, whispering “There, there. C’mon now, Lys, it’ll be alright.”

She sat up and locked eyes with him. He wiped a tear from her eye. “Better?”

She nodded. “Alright, Cyr, we’ll go travel the world _together_. Once this is all over.”

“It’s a promise.”

Their pinkies locked, planting the seeds of the future.


	3. Baby's Breath

The seasons of war pass, and once again, the flowers come back to life. The once-trampled lilies revive with even more vigor and vivacity than before. The bodies of the lost return to the earth, and in response, the earth returns the lilies. They’d seen more than enough death and destruction for a lifetime and then some, and now they were finally taking their victory lap.

Lysithea had been ‘seeing’ Cyril for _years_, ever since they attended the academy together. During that five-year lapse without the professor, it was difficult to keep up with him, due to the nature of her goals. She couldn’t exactly ask her parents to allow another student, of similar age, to stay in their home. Especially not a _boy_. They were well-meaning, to be sure, though a little antiquated. Not that she’d ever want to try and fool around with someone while her parents could walk in at any time.

Regardless, due to that, their meetings weren’t as frequent as they wanted. They made it work, still, and it paid off. To be simple, a little cheeky, and incredibly corny: she was madly in love with him. Had he not been so dense, her confession would have just been excitedly squealing “bappy!!” Spending time with him eventually became the most important thing to her, if only because they were both always so busy. Even though she was already going out of her way to make time for him, and she should have obviously expected the same of him if they were going to continue their relationship, to see him doing the same made her heart sing.

And so time marched on, as it always does. The time catches up with them, and they find their way back to Garreg Mach after five years, only to encounter Claude and the Professor in the middle of a skirmish. They were dragged into the conflict to save the world. And when they fought, they were side by side, always. They never left each other’s sight.

“I protect you. You protect me. That’s how it’ll always be, got it?”

That was their mantra. ‘We fight as one.’ Even against a foe as powerful and terrifying as the Death Knight, the two of them fought like always. At home and on the battlefield. Even when doing mundane tasks, Claude reported that they walked in step. Neither of them would go off and try to be a hero; as long as they had each other.

Which was why it was so hard to break to him the news that she wouldn’t be around for long. She’d willed herself through the war, sure, but they hadn’t found a cure for her crest issue. She could hardly meet his eyes when she tried to break the news to him, like she was betraying him.

“And do you know what he did? He just grinned at me. He grinned and said ‘Then we just have to find that cure! You can hold on a bit longer, yeah? You’re not even 25 yet, you can hold on a bit longer.’”

Her conversation partner laughed—and not just a normal laugh, but a real hearty laugh. It was so happy it was contagious, and soon, Lysithea found herself wrapped up in that pace.

“I see he’s given you no shortage of trouble. I never imagined him to be that sort of man,” she replied, covering her mouth, as if surprised.

“But what could I do? All of my resolve amounted to nothing more than a windbreaker in a hurricane,” she chuckled. Her conversant quickly understood that, while she liked to complain and be just a little bit rude, she didn’t really mean it.

“So? Go on, did you ever end up curing yourself?” She asked, clearly teasing her.

“Come on, you already know the answer to that question.”

“Oh, but how ever would I know? You never finished your story, child.” She took a sip of her tea and sat up a bit straighter.

She sighed, though the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well…” she trailed off.

For days and nights, Cyril thought constantly about what to do with regards to her situation. The first thing he did was obviously ask her what she’d tried so far so he knew what to rule out. The next thing he did was get her permission to talk to the two renowned crest scholars about her situation. After a bit of back and forth, she agreed to let him do it, _only if_ they would keep it to themselves.

What followed was brutal. They spent every waking moment trying to think of a cure. The war was over, so they had their free time, which… honestly made it worse. They had no cause for intermission, save for meals and sleep. One thing she did find funny, though, was how all four of them synced with Linhardt’s sleep schedule. He did have a bit of an “I told you so” moment, but they all knew him pretty well, so they knew it wasn’t in bad taste, at least.

Her time was waning fast, and though her symptoms progressed slowly, she had far overstayed her welcome. Every night she swore she’d met the reaper in her dreams, only for Cyril to appear in them and bring her back. Well, that was their mantra, after all. Even should the enemy be death itself, they’d no recourse but to fight as always. And right when all hope was gone, Cyril returned triumphantly, tome in hand. It was from the wreckage at Shambala, and within, a detailed diary of the nature of the experiments.

After reading through some truly gruesome and grotesque notes and images, they figured out where it all began; therefore, they could figure out where it would end. Cyril, leaving the procedure to the professionals, decided to better spend his time elsewhere: the garden. He didn’t believe in the Fodlan goddess, so there was no point in praying. He believed more in the earth; no matter what transpires during the year, whether the flower petals all get trampled to scattered to the wind, they always sprout again. They’re resilient, they never give up. Something about that resonated with him.

And when she awoke next, she was lying in bed next to him. The morning sunrise greeted her with a smile, and as she turned her head from that radiance, she was whacked with another one. He sat up in bed, asking her how she felt and all other sorts of base questions. The answer was… not super great, but, she assumed that could be worked off. She never had a physical reliance on her crests, and hers only augmented her magic prowess, but she could still feel the immediate effects of having something taken from her.

As she looked around, she noticed something. A singular potted lily, in full bloom. He said he would have prepared a whole bouquet, but since they didn’t tell him how long she’d be out for, he decided he’d rather not have the flowers wilt before she woke up. Would’ve been a bad omen.

“And I cried on the spot.” She puffed out her chest a little, almost like she was proud of it. “It was a wave of relief that washed over me and hit so hard it felt like I’d been cleansed of something… which I guess did literally happen, but I mean moreso metaphorically. I was just so—so… I was glad to be alive! Yanno?”

“Oh my, you’re even picking up his mannerisms now, are you?” The chuckle that followed embarrassed Lysithea, but she understood what it was about this woman that he’d looked up to so much. She had a certain motherly charm about her. 

“I think that’s wonderful you two are so close. What a sublime story you’ve told me; I’ve always been dying to know about your relationship with him, but he never really opened up to me about it.”

Lysithea took a sip of her tea and smiled at her. “It’s really no trouble at all. It’s fun to go back and relive the memories every once in a while.”

Just then, the man of the hour appeared, of course knocking before entering. He wasn’t a savage.

“Hey, Lys, do ya- oh, hey mom! What brings you around here?”

Rhea smiled at him, rising from her seat to pull him into a hug. “I just wanted to drop by to check up on you. Call it a whim.”

He blushed. He never imagined he would be this happy; it almost felt like a fever dream. He hugged her back, giving her a good squeeze before letting go.

“Good to see you’re still doin’ well. Not that you’d be goin’ anywhere anytime soon.”

She giggled at that. “No, I wouldn’t be going anywhere soon at all. And you’re looking hale and hearty yourself, Cyril!”

“Thanks! Ah, this is actually pretty good timing. You were gonna be the first person I told, which is why I came in here in the first place.”

She popped a curious expression.

“Me an’ Lys are getting married,” he said, putting a hand on his betrothed’s shoulder. The wide grin he revealed only to Lysithea extended to one more person. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes.

“That’s… just lovely, Cyril. You’ve come so far… I am so proud of you for the man you have become.”

Cyril chuckled at that, though his voice was already breaking. “Oh man… here come the waterworks…”

What proceeded was a cacophony of ugly sobbing and stuttered “I love you”s, with all three of them in a group hug. After about ten minutes of that, they pulled away from each other, both of them planted a kiss on Rhea’s cheek, and wished her safe travels, and that they’d be seeing her again at the wedding. The next order of business was to tell everyone else about the wedding, so naturally, they next went to see Lysithea’s parents. Her parents were mostly just happy that she was still alive and well, though there was a fair amount of ugly sobbing involved as well.

Next they went to go find Seteth (and with him were Flayn, Shamir, and Catherine) to tell him the good news. Seteth wished them good tidings, and he actually saw Shamir smile for once. He never really interacted with Catherine much, but she gave him a good slap on the back and told him he did a good job. He… didn’t hate that, honestly. Flayn got all teary-eyed, though, as she did.

Next they went to find Linhardt, who they only found thanks to Caspar. Conveniently, Hanneman was with him, though they supposed it would be obvious. They were in the same field, after all. Cyril honestly didn’t know what to expect from Linhardt, but he gave an honest congratulations, and wished them happiness in their newfound union. Lysithea did cry, though. He didn’t blame her. He exchanged more than a few words of gratitude with Hanneman, citing that he owed them no less than his life.

Next up was finding the scattered members of the Golden Deer house. Lorenz was the easiest to find, as he was still in Glouster territory. They dropped by to deliver the good news, and he gave the biggest ‘proud older brother’ smile Cyril thought he ever saw. He had the same sense of hospitality as a grandmother, though. They end up staying for an hour, rather than ten minutes. It wasn’t an unpleasant time, though. He still didn’t like noble culture, but Lysithea seemed to enjoy herself, so he said nothing.

Raphael and Leonie were the hardest to find, as they’d been out on a mission together. Cyril sent out a few messenger pigeons to other places to see if anyone had seen them, and to let them know there would be a wedding soon at the Monastery (he left whose wedding it would be out for privacy reasons).

Ignatz was in Edmund territory, visiting for a time to paint the scenery there. So were Claude and Hilda, for… some reason? Claude never elaborated on that, instead opting to change the subject every time. Maybe they were just congregating. Pretty soon though, Margrave Edmund’s dining hall was as lively as the dining hall in the Monastery. They all played catch-up, talking about this and that after Cyril dropped the news. Right as they were getting ready to pack up and go home, Raphael burst through the door (as well as Leonie), with Lorenz in tow.

For the first time in five years, the Golden Deer house was all back together, catching up and playing together as if nothing changed at all. Clowning around and goofing off together, not paying attention to the messes they were making, the time that passed, nor their neighbors. To quote Claude, it was ‘one hell of a class reunion!’

And in no time at all, the big day came. The bride and groom both dressed in dazzling white, the color of her favorite flower. As he watched her walk down the aisle, petals of baby’s breath scattered behind her, he reminisced about his life. He never imagined he’d get the perfect happy ending he’d always wanted. Yet, here he was, surrounded by his favorite people, his most loved companions. To call it starting a new life would be wrong; life wouldn’t change much. They’d been living together, acting as lovers for a time that seemed like an eternity.

She spoke her vows, doing her best to not break into tears. Saying that she’d stay by his side forever and on, how if he’d ever get lost in the darkness, she’d always reach for his hand and pull him back to the dawn. And though he wrote his own vows, intent on giving her as much attention to detail as she did to her vows, he couldn’t do it. In his heart of hearts, there was only one thing he was thinking, there was only one thing he could say. He finally understood what she was talking about, way back then.

“All I can say is ‘I’m bappy too.’”

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” said an all-too-familiar, monotone voice. “You may now kiss the bride.”

And when their lips finally locked, the lilies were blooming once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasnt obvious cyril is also madly in love with her, sorry i couldn't fit that anywhere in the actual story. also if it wasnt doubly obvious cyril had byleth be their wedding celebrant, to which claude says "having the archbishop sanctify your marriage? what a power move". I didn't want to give them too much attention in this one, though,  
also, i didn't want to go into pairings for the rest of the cast as i'm into mostly rarepairs for GD. Raph and Leonie were just on a mission together, so don't read into that, there's nothing there.


	4. Epilogue: Their Garden

In the back of the Ordelia Estate, there was a garden where children played. This garden was well maintained by the Head’s husband (notably, as maintenance of a garden would usually be designated to a maid or subordinate) and was host to but two flowers: baby’s breath and lilies. It’s said that these were the favorites of the Head and her husband, and the children had been instructed specifically to always be mindful of the flowers. It was said that you could sometimes find the two of them taking a nap under one of the arches during a slow day.

“Now, Nasrin,” spoke a kind, tender voice. “Remember what I told you about the flowers?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Ya can’t be mean to them! Ya gotta make sure you’re not steppin’ on the flowers!”

He patted her head, plucking a lily and tucking it behind her hair. They were sitting in the middle of the garden, encircled by flowers. The spring breeze flew past them, sending their hair, as well a few petals, flying with it.

“The earth is life. Even when the flowers wilt, and all the petals scatter away to the wind, the flowers always bloom again.”

Lysithea entered from the back of the garden, being careful not to step on the flowers, and plopped down in Cyril’s lap, scooping up Nasrin into her arms as well.

“Mama!”

She plucked a baby’s breath and tucked it behind her other ear. “And just what are you teaching her?”

Cyril laughed, instantly changing her mood. “Aw, nothin’. You just remind me of a lily in a lot of ways, and… I dunno, ever since we went to Almyra, I’ve always felt like what they practice makes a lotta sense to me. She can believe in the goddess if she wants to, but ain’t no harm in not steppin’ on flowers, y’know? ‘Sides, it’s not like I lied to her. They always come back.”

“Hold on, I’m not going to let you gloss over calling me a lily, you smooth talker. What’s this about? You already know well enough I’m not pure anymore, in any sense of the word.” Her words sounded grumpy, but as usual, her smile betrayed her intentions.

“Oh, didn’t ya know? In places outside of Fodlan, lilies are a flower commonly used in weddings. Apparently they’re good luck and mean a hundred years of love. Well, I don’t plan on stopping after just a hundred years though. ‘Sides, there’s all kindsa other colors that mean different things.”

And he smiled at her. That big, toothy grin that made her feel like a high schooler all over again. She just couldn’t help herself from loving him.

“Cyr?”

“Yea?”

“I love you.”

“Me too!!!” yelled a high-pitched voice, grabbing onto both of their chests. “Nasrin loves mama and papa too!!”

The garden erupted with laughter. They raised her up and planted a kiss on both of her cheeks, making sure to sing their praises to her, that she would know just how loved she was.

Though their story had ended, that only meant there was room for the next one to begin. So once again, let the seasons change.

And once more, let the flowers bloom in their garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey leia if ur readin' this, which you are, thanks for the nasrin hc! :] hope yall enjoyed this, i put my soul into it. thanks for readin if you made it this far!


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